


Not So Bad in the End

by Talullah



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 04:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2177361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet night 11 years ago...How it all began.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Bad in the End

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to swirly_ayuri for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Written for slashfest, for evila_elf who requested House/Wilson A quiet night 11 years ago...How it all began. Containing at least a kiss somewhere ^.^
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

"Dr. House? May I have a minute?"

House looked up from his lap where a boring paper on a _Taenia crassiceps_ infection in a patient lay. At the door of his brand new office stood James Wilson, the bright young oncologist Cuddy had so proudly introduced him to. He arched an eyebrow in invitation. "You can call me House."

Wilson nodded and walked in, looking embarrassed and out of place, immediately triggering House's annoyance.

"To what do I owe this honor?" he acidly inquired.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer at lunch time. I had a patient going into last stage, and I had to be there for the family."

"Ah, a Mother Theresa we have here."

Wilson straightened his back and something in his features hardened. "Hardly. I am good at my job and I consider that people skills are a part of it."

House smiled. Wilson was a defensive little cunt but at least he had backbone, unlike so many of the younger doctors.

"Have a seat," he invited.

Wilson took a step forward but still ignored the chair across House's desk. "I came by to see if you wanted to go for a beer. I saw the light on and thought that maybe it would be a chance to get to know each other."

House bit a remark about not needing to know anyone. "All right," he agreed, to his own surprise.

* * *

The bar Wilson chose was not what House expected. It was laidback, smoky and dark, and had live music, which unfortunately was just finishing as they arrived. The place was right up House's alley, but he would have expected that Wilson, all proper in his suit and tie, would have preferred someplace more fashionable.

He had met Wilson at the door, as each had driven their own cars, and they had exchanged a sort-of-a-nod before going in. Now, they searched in vain for a table or empty stools by the bar. House would have reveled in a bar like this any other day, but tonight he was tired, and holding a conversation by shouting was not the best way of getting acquainted with someone; not even for a man who cultivated his misanthropy. The band was quickly replaced by another, and after the very first chords, House knew he just had to leave. Wilson cringed by his side and made a motion to the door with his head. House rolled his eyes in sarcastic thanks and followed him out.

The night air was cold and tinnitus was heavily assaulting his ears, so House at first didn't understand what Wilson was saying.

"I said 'I'm sorry,'" Wilson repeated insistently.

House shrugged.

"Cuddy told me you like live music, especially jazz, so I thought this place would be nice. I forgot that the college kids all come here on Fridays for alternative stuff."

"Never mind. I'll give it a shot some other time. So... a rain check on those beers?"

Wilson shrugged, looking embarrassed. "Well, we can go to my place. It's not far from here."

House decided he liked Wilson's kind of embarrassment - it was never dull.

"Lead the way."

* * *

Wilson's apartment definitely had a woman's touch. Looking around, House followed Wilson to the kitchen while absently listening to the homeowner chat. Once there he took a seat by the kitchen table. He salivated when Wilson extracted two Heineken's from the fridge and a bag of chips from a cupboard.

House opened one bottle and prepared to do the same to the other when Wilson invited him to go to the living room. "Cosier," he said.

House raised an eyebrow, but followed him, carrying the beers. Wilson had two couches, one larger and a second smaller. House chose the smaller one. It had two seats but Wilson and he didn't have enough intimacy to share it. By choosing it, he was forcing Wilson to sit opposite him, giving him a chance to study the other man's reactions as they spoke.

Wilson placed the bowl of chips on the table, and sat on House's couch.

"It's nicer here, isn't it?" Wilson asked, raising his bottle in a silent toast.

House reciprocated. Yes, Wilson's house was nice and his couch was cozy and his beer was pretty damn good, but he was no man for easy compliments.

"Your house has a distinct feminine touch," he observed.

"Ah well..." Wilson said averting his eyes. "My wife's spending some time with her parents."

A wife... House raised an eyebrow. Well, it fit the puzzle - sort of - except for the glance that Wilson had cast him as he'd invited him back home. And the fact that they were now sitting together on the same couch. House clicked his tongue, mentally chiding himself for rushing to conclusions.

"So, how long have you known Cuddy?" he asked, making an effort to engage in small talk - it was the least he could do for free beer.

"Ages..." Wilson replied before taking a long draught from his bottle. "You?"

"Since med school."

They sat in silence for a moment, just long enough for House to start thinking that this had been a mistake, but then Wilson asked him about another mutual acquaintance. And instead of common place gossip, the conversation turned to a very peculiar case their acquaintance had diagnosed, then to another case, then to the evils of private funding, then to the increasing inadequacy of incoming students, then back to an interesting case. Politics and health budget allotment, euthanasia and moral issues, difficult conversations; and before House knew it, it was past 2 AM. His fatigue had evaporated, despite the growing collection of empty beer bottles in front of them, and he was thrilled that he had accepted Wilson's invitation. He did realize that his social skills weren't the best, and he already liked Wilson too much to want to leave a bad impression.

"It's getting kind of late... I should get going."

"You could stay," Wilson said.

The body language was clear. The words, House had heard often enough from either gender. Still, something was not adding up.

"I don't put out on the first date," he said, using the joke as a harmless probe.

"Neither do I... but you've had too much booze to drive, and we do have a spare room..."

House looked down at his hands in his lap, considering the offer. He decided to take it. Wilson was right, four beers were just too many to drive back on.

"All right, thanks."

Wilson rose to his feet, wobbling just enough for House to know he was in no better state. His own knees threatened to betray him as he got up and followed Wilson to the corridor two doors down.

"Here's your room. The bathroom is the door we've just passed, and my room is just opposite, if you need anything."

"Thanks." House stood by the door wondering what it was that kept him in place. Ah, the puzzle. "Won't your wife mind?"

Wilson laughed bitterly. "That would be a change." He looked down, then straight into House's eyes. "Well, goodnight then."

He didn't move and neither did House. House had always hated playing chickenshit, but there was something about Wilson's eyes that blunted the challenge. House felt himself wobble a few seconds after it actually happened.

"I had a great evening," he said.

"Me too." Wilson stretched up and touched House's lips with his.

"Whoa," House said softly.

"I'm sorry." Wilson quickly stepped back. "I'm a little drunk."

"I'm not sorry, just drunk. And taken by surprise."

Wilson seemed to relax. "You're hard to read."

"So this whole bonding between colleagues was a scheme all along?" House asked, half teasing.

"Not all along."

House laughed when he noticed that Wilson was actually blushing. Kind of endearing in a grown man who had nothing girly about him.

"I'm disappointed then. I'd kiss you, if the beer wasn't starting to make my mouth taste like umbrellas."

Wilson stepped forward and kissed House again, this time slipping his tongue inside his mouth just for a second.

"I like umbrellas," he said as he stepped back.

"And I still don't put out on the first date. And don't do married men on the rebound."

Wilson bit his lips and nodded. "Fair enough. The way things are going, soon enough I won't be married anymore. Do you put out on second dates?"

House laughed. "You're a funny drunk. I may put out for you." He winked and stepped into his room, closing the door behind himself without looking back at Wilson.

Heeling his shoes off and dropping his jeans to the floor, he considered the implications: things like these normally ended badly. He had a strict policy of never going beyond flirting with colleagues, and he knew what Wilson wanted - a shoulder to cry on about his hinted marital troubles. He was a diagnostician, not a shrink.

House dropped to the bed and closed the light and his eyes. the night had been awkward and rich in interesting parts and now weariness weighed on him. The kiss had been nice, though. He fell asleep thinking he might like another one soon.

 

_Finis  
October 2008_


End file.
